


Flying

by michmak



Series: The Wizard of Odd, and other stories [9]
Category: Firefly
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:11:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michmak/pseuds/michmak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is it love that makes you fly too?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flying

Prompt: 009 – Love (list 2)  
Word Count: 988  
Progress: 8/100

 

"You told her it was love that kept Serenity flying," she says to him one night. He can feel the movement of her jaw against his chest and shivers at the way it makes him feel. His coffee is luke-warm now, because he doesn't want to finish drinking it. He knows the longer it takes him, the longer he has a valid reason for staying there with her. The coffee's just an excuse now anyway for searching her out in the middle of the night.

He doesn't respond to her statement, because he don't quite get what she's saying. She sighs. "Is it love that makes you fly too?"

Mal blinks. "What?"

"Love. Love of the 'verse; love of the black – is it love that keeps you flying, or is it love that keeps you running away?" She's sat up somewhat, so that she's facing him. Her boney little elbow is digging against his rib cage and it ain't pleasurable. Don't make him near as uncomfortable as her questions, though.

"I don't run away from anything, little Albatross," he growls.

"Do so," she whispers. "Run away from your Albatross all the time in your mind. Is she so scary?" Her eyes are dark and serious, her expression just a little sad. "She doesn't want you to run away any more. Wonders if you'll ever let yourself be caught."

"It's not – I don't…I'm sitting with you right now, little girl."

"You're sitting with her, pretending she's a little girl even though you know she's ready to be a woman. You want her because she knows you but you think she's too young; that maybe what she knows will force her away one day. It won't. You know her too, even though you pretend you don't."

She's shifted again, her face inches from his own. He can feel her words brush across his face and it makes him ache. "You've taught her, so many things – won't you teach her how to be a woman, too? She was made to fit."

Her words leave him breathless and hot, his pulse-pounding and his heart beating so rapidly he wonders if she hears it. One of her hands his lifted to his chest and she smiles when she feels the rhythm of his heart. "Your heart wants to break free of its cage and fly with hers. Will you give her the key?"

She smells like sunshine; reminds him of his home back on Shadow, in the spring time when green things were just starting to grow again, reaching up to the heat of the sun. He wonders how that can be until she inches up and kisses him softly.

She pulls away and smiles shyly, her tongue peeking out and gliding across her bottom lip as if she's trying to taste him again, before she leans up for another kiss. He can't help but to meet her.

Her lips are soft and full and they feel so right against his mouth. His hands have come up to tangle in her hair and he grips it, angling her against him so he can kiss her more fully. He can feel her breath mingling with his own as he sweeps his tongue along the seam of her lips, entering her mouth and finally tasting the silk of her tongue.

He can hear the scrape of his stubble against her tender flesh as he pulls away from her mouth to kiss both eyes, before he buries his head against her neck and tastes the pulse-point at the base.

Her hands are in his hair, clutching at his head, pulling his mouth back to hers. He can't think when she arches into him like that and moans his name – forgets they are in the kitchen and even though it's two in the morning, someone could still wander in. Can't muster up any of the reasons this shouldn't be happening when she climbs into his lap and straddles his waist with the long legs he so admires.

The pink peasant dress she is wearing has slipped from her shoulder, leaving it bare. He can't help but stroke it. His hand slides against her skin before his fingers dip into the neckline and brush across the gentle swell of her curves. Just a bit lower and he could cup his callused palms around them and stroke her nipples with his thumbs. The thought makes him groan into her mouth as he lifts his hips more firmly into the cradle of her thighs.

She's filled out some since the first time her saw her, all curled up in that big silver box. Then she'd been just a girl, done wrong by too many men intent on harming her. He'd promised himself then he wouldn't ever be one of them.

He rises against her core again, feeling the heat between them, the sweet friction of cloth against skin and wonders what it would be like to bury himself inside that heat and share it with her.

He'd never thought he would ever want this little girl the way he wants her now – naked and writhing beneath him; gasping his name as he joins her and teaches her how to pleasure a man.

Never thought his little Albatross would ever make him feel like he was flying…

With a muffled curse he's got her off his lap and is on his feet so quick he don't even have time to register her little cry of dismay. It's painful to walk away from her, when every atom of his being demands he turn around and finish what she'd started when she kissed him. He knows he can't.

She ain't ready - won't ever be ready for the likes of him. She's had enough men hurt her and he refuses to add himself to the ranks.

She don't need his darkness inside her. He loves her too much to do that to her.


End file.
